


Problematic

by alpacameron



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (also known as "excessive use of semicolons"), Aobajousai, Canon Compliant, Frenemies, Friendship, Fukurodani - Freeform, Gen, Humor, Nekoma, Oikawa-centric, Pranks, Pre-Canon, Seijoh - Freeform, Seijou, Training Camp, arm wrestling competition, implied bokuaka, implied iwaoi, oikawa gets rekt: the fic, traning camp shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:51:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacameron/pseuds/alpacameron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When they finally arrived everyone stood up inside the Aoba Johsai bus to exit and greet the teams, but Oikawa clearly heard Bokuto yell “HEY, KUROO! SHITTYKAWA’S HERE!” from outside and decided he wasn’t going to."</p><p>-- </p><p>Aoba Johsai used to attend the Tokyo Training Camp, but Oikawa never got along with Bokuto and Kuroo very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Problematic

**Author's Note:**

> people like to headcanon that oikawa gets along with bokuto and kuroo, but i'd like to think otherwise.
> 
> it took me two days to write most of this, MONTHS to finish it, and two days to revise. thanks [esmaewrites](http://archiveofourown.org/users/esmaewrites/works) for helping me out with this and suffering with me through the entire process.  
> this is the first haikyuu thing i've managed to complete out of tons of WIPs, so I hope I got the characters right and there are minimal grammatical errors!
> 
> anyways, i hope you enjoy!

Aoba Johsai _used_ to be invited to the Tokyo Training Camp. Emphasis on _used_ to be. In fact, their first year at the week-long camp was when Oikawa was a first year – their team was finally taking shape and going to training camp with the best teams in Tokyo was a good influence on them. Well, the actual _training_ part was. Everything else, however, was a disaster.

Aoba Johsai’s first attendance at camp was the week away camp – they missed the weekend dates due to pre-planned practice matches and other inconveniences – so most teams had already established routines and made new friends before Seijoh arrived. Unfortunately, one of those friendships included Kuroo and Bokuto.

Kuroo and Bokuto were rowdy, mischievous, and hyperactive first years. They took volleyball incredibly seriously, but (also unfortunately) took pranks seriously as well; on the second day of camp, they somehow managed to switch out all of the volleyballs with beach balls overnight. They were benched during personal practice that day. Even worse, they took a weird interest in Oikawa, which Oikawa did not like _at all_.

“I heard he got the award for best setter in junior high.”

“Oho?”

“Yeah. He’s probably not as smart as Kenma, though.”

“Mm. _I_ heard that he and that first year spiker were up practicing _real_ late last night, you know, getting down and–“

Oikawa turned around suddenly. “I can _hear_ you, you know,” he sneered. Kuroo and Bokuto stood only a few feet away, both twinning a mischievous smile and ridiculous hairstyle.

“Oh, really? I knew we should’ve been more quiet, Bokuto.” Kuroo said, looking Oikawa up and down. He nudged Bokuto with his elbow. “Heh, he’s shorter up close.”

Oikawa glared at him. “And I suppose you and your hair are compensating for something then?”

Bokuto laughed and Kuroo kicked him in the shin.

That night during the first years’ time to shower, Kuroo and Bokuto stole Oikawa’s clothes and hid them in the managers’ room.

Practice matches were even worse. They were all regulars on their team, so each got to jab at the other when their teams were paired up.

Nekoma was difficult to deal with in terms of blocking. Kuroo was excellent at reading the plays and blocked majority of Iwaizumi’s spikes, but each time he successfully did so he would look at Oikawa directly in the eye and smile. Kuroo would tease and provoke until Oikawa was cornered into doing so back. Their matches lasted a long time.

Fukurodani was unique, to say the least. Bokuto was a regular player but apparently borderline so; his power was off the charts for a first year, though he had trouble controlling his spikes and often got blocked – which was good for Seijoh, until Bokuto completely lost it and stormed out of the gym. Aside from that, their team was certainly one of the most powerful and quite a challenge to play against.

 

 

For their second year, Oikawa actually considered sneaking off at one of the bathroom stops before their bus even got to Tokyo.

That year, Seijoh was smart enough to clear their schedule for the weekend camps. For their first weekend they left early and ended up arriving at the same time as Nekoma. As he greeted the other teams, Oikawa kept a lookout for the Dream Duo out of the corner of his eye, anticipating a sneak attack. He spotted them as Bokuto ran towards Kuroo with his arms wide open and practically tackled him to the ground, and proceeded to yell “KENMAAAA” at Kuroo’s blond-haired friend from on top of Kuroo’s chest. Kenma jumped and ran behind their libero while Kuroo exclaimed something about how _Kenma hasn’t even met you yet you can’t just scream at him like that_. Another Fukurodani member with dark wavy hair that Oikawa’s never seen before pulled Bokuto up by the back of his shirt and apologized to Kenma.

Oikawa hoped that he wouldn’t be greeted in a similar fashion.

 

 

Apparently they were waiting until Oikawa let his guard down a bit, because as Oikawa was leaving Seijoh’s sleeping room Bokuto jumped out in front of him and cornered him at the end of the hallway. Behind him stood Kuroo and and the Fukurodani first year.

“Geh!”

“Geh?” Kuroo echoed, “aren’t you happy to see us?”

Oikawa wrinkled his nose. “Not in the slightest.”

“You’ve already given yourself a bad reputation? I thought you said he loved you.” The first year spoke up, giving Oikawa a peculiar expression. Oikawa decided to be offended.

“S-Shut up, Akaashi!” Bokuto cried. He breathed in and regained his composure as quickly as he lost it. He faced Oikawa with sharp eyes and grinned. “These are our setters.” He said as he swung his arms out dramatically, almost hitting Kuroo in the face in the process.

Oikawa glanced over Bokuto’s shoulders, but the only new person he took note of was Akaashi. “Did you lose one on the way over?”

“Kenma didn’t want to come.” Kuroo explained. Oikawa recalled Kenma as the reclusive blond one that Bokuto screamed at upon arrival.

Bokuto grabbed Akaashi by the shoulder and shook him, keeping his eyes on Oikawa. “This is Akaashi, he's the best setter in Tokyo.”

Akaashi seemed unfazed. “I wouldn’t exaggerate, Bokuto-san.” Bokuto humphed and released Akaashi.

“So,” Kuroo began his inquiry, stepping closer to Oikawa with a devilish expression. “Last year was kind of a disappointment.”

Oikawa scoffed. “Disappointment? You–“

“Never mind what we did,” Kuroo cut him off, completely calm. “I think we all can agree that none of us got what we fully wanted out of our first year at training camp.” He looked over at Bokuto, who nodded in approval. Oikawa looked at him suspiciously.

“So. We have an offer.” Kuroo paused, waiting for a response from Oikawa.

Oikawa ran over the endless possibilities of horrible things they could want from him in his mind, and what he might give to get out of it. Kuroo must’ve taken his contemplation as a sign to go on, because he started to speak again.

“How would you like to practice with us?”

 _Oh. Of course,_ he thought to himself dumbly. Though surprised, Oikawa still looked genuinely offended that they would offer such a thing to him. “No thanks,” he replied. He tried to sidestep the two and escape, but Kuroo blocked him.

“You sure? I mean, didn’t Aoba Johsai get _totally crushed_ by Shiratorizawa last ye–?”

“Your provocation isn’t going to work, Kuroo-san.” Oikawa interrupted confidently, though his clenched fists said otherwise. Over Akaashi’s shoulder, Oikawa spotted Iwaizumi exiting the bathroom across the hall.

“IWA-CHAN!” He yelled, waving his arms to gain his attention. “Call the police!”

Iwaizumi furrowed his brow and walked over. “What’s wrong?”

Oikawa pointed his index finger right at Kuroo’s face. “They’re trying to get me to practice with them.”

Iwaizumi looked completely at a loss. “So?”

“So?” Oikawa squawked. “Don’t you remember what they did to me last year?”

“They did lots of things,” Iwaizumi commented, reflecting over Kuroo and Bokuto’s antics. “Oh, you mean stealing your clothes?” Oikawa nodded fiercely and Iwaizumi burst into laughter. “Oh my god, that was hilarious,” he wiped at the corner of his eye, “you were running around the entire building in a towel for like half an hour!”

“ _Iwa-chan_!” Oikawa weeped, ears reddening. Kuroo and Bokuto were wheezing from laughter on the other side of him. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

When everyone calmed down, Iwaizumi continued, “but really, why not? They’d probably be really helpful to practice with.”

Oikawa huffed. “They are the opposite of helpful!”

“You know, Fukurodani went to Nationals last year.” Kuroo butted in, smirking. “It’d be a great opportunity for additional practice.”

Bokuto puffed up his chest in pride and Oikawa snickered at his eccentric appearance. If Bokuto noticed he didn’t say anything about it.

“Yeah! Since I’ve been to Nationals, I could tell you everything you need to get there.”

“But if you don’t want to practice with us,” Kuroo continued, “I guess you won’t be able to defeat your arch nemesis anytime soon.” He shrugged and turned around, wordlessly motioning for Bokuto and Akaashi to follow.

Akaashi sighed and waited until the two were a few steps in front of him to lean closer to Oikawa and Iwaizumi. “We’ll be practicing in the third gym tomorrow if you want to join us.”

Without another word, Akaashi turned around and followed his teammate.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi stood at the end of the hall, dumbfounded.

Iwaizumi turned to look at Oikawa. “Still not up for teaming up with them? It’ll probably be helpful, like they said.”

Oikawa huffed and placed his hands on his waist. “There’s no way I’m letting go of my pride that easily. I’ll show them who’ll get to Nationals.”

 

 

“Oho ho?”

“Oho ho ho?”

“Will you two quit that? It’s weird.” Oikawa did his best to physically separate himself from the two troublemakers.

“So, you actually showed up?” Kuroo grinned.

Iwaizumi walked passed them. “Did you honestly expect him not to?”

Oikawa gasped. “You’re apart of this, too, you know!”

Kuroo and Bokuto returned back to Akaashi on the left side of the net while Iwaizumi and Oikawa stood on the right. Bokuto leaned forward and stuck his face right against the net.

“So you wanna know about Nationals, right?” Bokuto waggled his eyebrows. “You wanna know what it takes to beat Shiratorizawa?”

Oikawa huffed.

“How about we start with some blocking practice?” Bokuto recommended. “Based on how you guys were playing earlier, Seijoh still sucks at blocking our spikes.”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi went stone cold.

“Says the guy who hit the net twice in the row while serving,” Oikawa retorted.

Bokuto simply screeched in response and turned towards Akaashi. “Toss for me?” He asked. Akaashi nodded and the rest of them wordlessly got into position.

Bokuto backed up and got into place, as did Akaashi. Akaashi tossed the ball and the blockers jumped with Bokuto, forming a solid wall in front of Bokuto’s spike. However, Bokuto’s limitless power sent the ball crashing straight through their block. Seijoh’s side _tch_ 'd and Bokuto yelled in victory.

They continued their routine for quite a while, rotating positions every few spikes. Oikawa couldn’t help but notice how much the pranksters improved in a year, both in skill and awful personality. Bokuto, though still simpleminded, learned a lot of new techniques and survived better when dealing with quick decisions. His insane mood swings were controlled down to just phases of dejectedness – which definitely had something to do with their setter, who Bokuto sought constant approval of. Nevertheless, Bokuto was stumbling through a rocky road of trying a bunch of new things at once, including straight spikes and feints. It was easy to get him agitated during practice matches, but Akaashi managed to keep him in line and on the court. He still, however, had his ridiculous hairstyle, but his dark roots were starting to show, making him look eerily similar to an owl. Kuroo, on the other hand, still had his crazy bedhead, but improved in his own ways as well; his game sense skyrocketed and he could block just about any spike. When playing with Kenma, Nekoma could pull of a personal time difference attack, and outsmarted Seijoh during a single practice match too many times to count. Kuroo himself had matured, which Oikawa was grateful for – he no longer took excessive interest in pranks, and instead used that energy to become the master of provocation. Oikawa could handle that.

The addition of their setters made them even more troublesome opponents. Oikawa didn’t know too much about Kenma, but he made their long matches even _longer,_ and Oikawa didn’t like anyone that could read him so easily. Akaashi, on the other hand, is very balanced and strategic, able to set a toss for nearly any attack no matter the receive. He apparently was also the only one on the team that could translate Bokuto’s weird manner of speech and keep him under control, which nearly everybody was thankful for. Oikawa appreciated him and didn’t know whether he should thank him or apologize.

“Think you’ve got what it takes to beat Ushijima, Oikawa-san?” Kuroo asked slyly as they cooled down at the end of practice.

Oikawa took a sip of water and slung his towel around his neck. He glared at Kuroo, more than aware of his attempts to get him worked up. “Ushiwaka-chan and I have been rivals since junior high, and this year we’re definitely going to win.”

Bokuto nearly spat out his water. “‘Ushiwaka-chan’?” He threw his head back in laugher. “That’s perfect, oh my god. I’m _so_ going to bug him about that at Nationals.”

“Hey!” Oikawa cried, “I _just_ said that we were going to beat Shiratorizawa this year! You guys are so infuriating!” He huffed, turning away from them and taking another sip of water. Suddenly, something wet splattered across his thigh. Oikawa whipped his head around and saw Bokuto poised at his spot on the floor with his water bottle aimed at Oikawa.

“That was _so_ uncalled for!” He gasped. He pointed his water bottle down at Bokuto and squirted water back.

Bokuto jumped to his feet and latched onto Kuroo’s shoulders, using him as a human shield. Oikawa spurted water at both of them.

“The hell?” Kuroo yelled. He picked up his own water bottle from the floor and joined the fight while Akaashi and Iwaizumi sighed against the wall, murmuring apologies back and forth.

“En garde, pretty boy!” Bokuto hooted, spraying water all over Oikawa’s face.

Kuroo hit Bokuto with his towel. “That’s for fencing, idiot!”

Oikawa took the distraction to his advantage and managed to get of them at the same time. “Aw, you think I’m pretty?”

Bokuto shrugged and Kuroo made a barfing sound with his throat.

“Rude!” Oikawa exclaimed. He attempted to squirt them again, but his water bottle only managed to sputter out a few water droplets and air. Bokuto and Kuroo hooted with laughter. Not willing to give up so soon, Oikawa threw his water bottle right at Kuroo’s face. Kuroo noticed at the last second and ducked, free from danger.

Unfortunately for Oikawa, he also noticed at the last second that Iwaizumi stood right behind Kuroo, and he was certain he already felt the flames of Iwaizumi’s wrath coming to send him to death.

The water bottle hit Iwaizumi square in the forehead. Everything was quiet as the bottle dropped onto the floor, seemingly in slow motion.

Iwaizumi stepped forward and punched Oikawa in the shoulder. “ _Ow!”_ Oikawa cried. The force of Iwaizumi’s punch sent him back a step, but his sneaker slipped against the water and he fell back onto his butt.

“Oi, Shittykawa, watch what you’re doing!” Iwaizumi roared.

There it was: the brief moment of pure silence that arose as Bokuto and Kuroo fully took in what just happened, the last glimmer of tranquility to ever exist in Oikawa’s life, the calm before the never-ending storm that was about to occur.

“ _SHITTYKAWA?”_ Kuroo and Bokuto shouted in unison. Suddenly, they _exploded_ into laughter. Bokuto fell onto his side and was howling against the floor, while Kuroo was doubled over next to him, cackling in an obnoxious hyena-like voice that Oikawa didn’t even know he possessed. Even Akaashi was trying to hide his laughter behind his hand.

“Oh-hoh, oh my god,” Bokuto said between fits of giggles, “I cannot _believe–.”_

“ _Shittykawa_!” Kuroo hollered. He stood with his arms wrapped around his stomach, still cackling like an idiot. “That’s – that's the best insult ever,” he managed to say.

Akaashi kneeled down next to Bokuto, who was finally beginning to get ahold of himself, and grabbed onto his wrist in an attempt to pull him up. “Come on, Bokuto-san, that’s enough–.”

Bokuto absolutely _shrieked_ at the touch. Akaashi reflexively jumped back and Kuroo burst out into laughter again.

Oikawa looked up at Iwaizumi, defeated. “This is all your fault.”

“You know very well that it’s not.”

As Kuroo and Bokuto continued to laugh, the Fukurodani captain barged into the gym.

“What the hell is going on in here? We can hear you all the way down in the first gym! Why’s there water all over the floor, what the hell?”

Bokuto, scared shitless, immediately shut up, while Kuroo managed to calm down to uncontrolled snickering. Akaashi stood up and explained what happened.

“Honestly, what the fuck, you guys?” The captain sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay look, just clean this mess up, put up the equipment and go eat dinner, alright? I’ll figure out your punishments later.” He pointed a finger at Oikawa and Iwaizumi. “I’ll be telling your captain about this, as well. You too, Kuroo!”

Kuroo finally managed to stop laughing.

When the Fukurodani captain left, Iwaizumi punched Oikawa again.

“Look what you did, Assikawa!”

And it all started again.

 

 

Oikawa was not excited for their week-long expedition to training camp that year. The weekend was more than enough suffering, and having to spend a weekend with them every month was already torture at its finest. As first years they were annoying and messed with him just because he was fun to provoke, but their first meet up as second years made them more acquainted with each other – and who knows what Bokuto and Kuroo would do now.

When they finally arrived, everyone stood up inside the Aoba Johsai bus to exit and greet the teams, but Oikawa clearly heard Bokuto yell “HEY, KUROO! SHITTYKAWA’S HERE!” from outside and decided he wasn’t going to.

“You have to get off the fucking bus, Oikawa.” Hanamaki said.

“Not for a whole week,” Oikawa wept into his shoulder. “Don’t make me, Makki.”

Hanamaki shoved him out of the bus.

Oikawa nearly toppled over, but someone was quick to catch him. He looked up and was met nose-to-nose with Bokuto. Oikawa screamed.

 

 

Admittedly, the first couple of days weren’t as bad as Oikawa expected; instead of cornering him like before, Bokuto and Kuroo only obnoxiously greeted him (in front of nearly everybody at camp, that is). During free practice, Oikawa remained with Seijoh and practiced with Iwaizumi, even receiving some help from some Shinzen members, though most likely out of pity.

However, after the second night, Oikawa realized that he was mistaken thinking that Kuroo had completely abandoned his interests in pranks. When he went to bed, he realized that the pillow he was laying on was in fact _not_ a pillow, but a pillowcase filled completely with uncooked rice. _Those bastards … where did they even get that much rice? I bet they stole it from the kitchens. Little shits._ When he opened up the pillowcase, he found a note sitting on top of the rice that read: “Dear Shittykawa: Miss us? Love, Bokuto and Kuroo.”

Oikawa furiously wrote “NO” on the back, stuck it back in the pillowcase, tied it up, and snuck into Fukurodani’s sleeping room to switch out with Bokuto’s pillow. Half an hour later he heard Bokuto’s yelling of various emotions from across the hall and snickered proudly into his stolen pillow.

“What’re you laughing about, Assikawa?” Iwaizumi asked from the futon over. “That wasn’t even your prank, you just switched it back.”

Oikawa waved him off and strained to hear what was going on, but felt true fear when he suddenly heard Bokuto stomp across the hall and slam open their door. Thankfully, he was pulled out of their doorway by both Akaashi and their captain – who apologized profusely – and shut the door. Bokuto’s complaints could be heard from the hallway.

“But he took my pillow!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t filled his pillow with rice he wouldn’t have taken your pillow.”

“Kuroo’s the one that did that, I just wrote the note!”

Oikawa went to sleep satisfied that night.

Unfortunately for Oikawa (this seemed to be a theme for him), Bokuto must’ve taken his actions as a declaration of war, because in the morning he yelled something incoherent at him over his breakfast – something along the lines of “don’t think you’ve won just yet!”

Oikawa was paranoid for the entire day, anticipating some sort of humiliating situation to come his way. Kuroo and Bokuto suspiciously asked Oikawa if he wanted to practice with them again (as they also did the previous days of camp), which he declined, opting to practice with his own team instead. When he returned to Seijoh’s room after dinner to retrieve clothes to change into after his shower (he _had_ to be the first in order to avoid the Pajama Thieves), the entire floor was covered in plastic cups, all filled to the brim with water. If he knocked one over, he’d probably get one of the futons wet. _Damn them,_ Oikawa scowled, _If I had chosen to practice with them, they probably wouldn’t have had the time to do all this._

When the rest of the team found out, they were pretty pissed. They spent the evening staying up and disposing of the water – Bokuto and Kuroo snickering in the hallway.

Out of earshot of their upperclassmen, Oikawa brought the second years together and asked if they were willing to help him get revenge on the duo. They agreed.

After scheming up a plan that included sneaking into the coaches’ room, sacrificing Matsukawa’s phone for the day, and possibly infuriating everyone else on campus, the Seijoh second years went to sleep satisfied and ready for revenge.

“Hey, where’s Matsukawa-kun?” One of the third years asked as practice was starting.

Oikawa shrugged. “Last time I saw him he was going to the bathroom or something.”

Their captain gave a disapproving frown but continued on stretching. Oikawa sent Iwaizumi a thumbs-up.

Out of nowhere, the intercom went off, but there wasn’t anything there except for a bit of shuffling. Everyone stopped to listen, confused at the sudden announcement, but continued to warm up when nothing happened (“That’s weird, I didn’t think there were any faculty members at school today. Must’ve been an accident.”).

Just a few minutes later, Matsukawa returned and joined the others in their stretches. Nobody noticed.

“Did you put it on a timer?” Hanamaki asked him.

“Yeah, ten minutes.”

“Oh my god, nice.” Iwaizumi whispered and slapped him on the back.

Approximately ten minutes later, music blared over the intercom that made nearly everybody jump out of their skin. The music was upbeat and featured high-pitched female vocals, singing the bridge into the chorus.

“Wait, is this PONPONPON?” Someone asked.

As the chorus kicked in, instead of the original song, it played an audio clip of a voice saying “oh yeah Mr. Krab” remixed over the music, followed by a recurring shriek as the song progressed – though “shriek” alone was certainly an understatement. Kuroo and Bokuto wailed with laughter on the other side of the gym.

“The fuck is this?” Bokuto cried. The song finally faded out after about thirty seconds, but then it looped and started over again. The Seijoh second years snickered into their hands.

“Was this you?” The Fukurodani captain shouted at Bokuto. He frantically denied his accusation and attempted to pull up Akaashi to back him up, who denied his request. The same happened to Kuroo over by Nekoma’s team. Oikawa laughed loudly at them.

They both whipped their heads towards Oikawa. “This was you, wasn’t it?” They shouted.

“Gah! Why’d they yell it at the same time like that?” Oikawa cried.

As time went on, the music continued to play on repeat. One of the coaches reported that the door to the main office was locked and couldn’t find his keys. The captains still blamed Bokuto and Kuroo despite their efforts to prove them wrong. Everyone was slowly going insane with the song playing nonstop at full blast. Seijoh second years were about to lose it. It’s been nearly two hours.

Finally, one of the coaches was able to find a faculty member with a key to get into the office, returning to the gym with Matsukawa’s phone. Busted.

Seijoh’s captain recognized the phone case and interrogated Matsukawa, and fortunately for him, the other second years admitted to being apart of the prank. They were sentenced to 100 diving receives from the coaches, an extra sprint up Shinzen’s grassy hill from Seijoh’s captain, and straight to dinner and bed after required practice was over for the greater good. Bokuto and Kuroo laughed at them the entire time while simultaneously criticizing others for their wrongful accusations.

Though their prank ultimately backfired, they decided it was completely worth it.

Meanwhile, Kuroo and Bokuto were most likely planning their next prank.

Fortunately (for once, something has been good for Oikawa), the next day was relatively normal. They had a productive day of practice and were only mildly looked down upon for the previous day’s events – aside from being teased by Bokuto and Kuroo, but that didn’t count. Most of Seijoh retired to dinner a bit early, exhausted from their excessive loss penalties, especially as the week was nearing an end.

Bokuto and Kuroo slammed their food trays down across the table from the Seijoh second years and sat down.

Oikawa picked up his tray. “No,” he said, standing up, “goodbye.” As he started to step away, Iwaizumi grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back down. Oikawa groaned.

“I have to say,” Kuroo started, “that was an impressive stunt you guys pulled yesterday.”

“Yeah, I almost wish I’d done it!” Bokuto said proudly.

They stared at him. “Uh, thanks,” Iwaizumi finally responded.

“It was Mattsun’s idea,” Hanamaki said.

“Great job, Mattsun!” Bokuto praised, reaching forward to pat Matsukawa on the shoulder. “Send that song to me, would’ya?” Before Matsukawa could interrupt to tell him that he did not have Bokuto’s number (and didn’t intend on getting it either), he had moved on to something else.

“So! Are you sure you don’t want any more help from the guy who went to Nationals?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Oikawa grimaced. “You? Helpful?”

“Hey!”

“The last and only time you tried to help us you ended up starting a water fight in the gym.” Iwaizumi said flatly.

“Oikawa’s the one that threw the water bottle at your head.” Kuroo added. Matsukawa and Hanamaki snickered behind their hands.

“Rude!” Oikawa gasped. He threw a couple of grains of rice from his dinner at Kuroo.

Bokuto stood up suddenly. “Are you declaring a _food fight_ , Oikawa?” He slammed his hands onto the table, his declaration apparent to everyone in the room.

“Wha–? No? I – _hey!”_

It was too late; Bokuto tossed a handful of rice at Oikawa’s face. Oikawa sputtered and brushed the rice out of his hair, then picked up more rice of his own to throw back, despite Iwaizumi’s complaints.

“Oh-hoh, you’re not staying out of this one, Iwa-chan!” Bokuto yelled, throwing food at him. Iwaizumi growled and retaliated immediately. It wasn’t long before the others were involved as well, throwing contents of their dinner at the other side of the table. Even some players from the other teams ended up joking around and throwing food at their own friends. Everyone was yelling and making a huge mess. Soon enough, a coach was brought to the scene.

The six culprits were to clean up the mess and resolve their conflict. More punishments were to come in the morning due to their restless behavior all week. Their second year of Tokyo Training Camp was indescribable.

 

 

They were lucky to be invited a third year. In fact, they were hardly invited for long. Over the past two years, it was proven that Aoba Johsai was something of a problem. The Provocation Partners brought out the worst in them – more specifically, Oikawa. They did not like Oikawa, and therefore found it fun to mess with him. Oikawa did not like them either; not only for their awful personalities and taste in hairstyles, but their teams were hell to play against. However, despite the previous problems Seijoh had brought up, perhaps they just needed one final chance.

It all ended on the first weekend trip.

Camp had gone as usual – obnoxious greetings, denied offers, regret, extra penalties – and things seemed rather alright. Maybe the third year was finally when they started settling down, the coaches hoped. It was a new year; perhaps things would be different. Seijoh’s skills had skyrocketed since Oikawa became captain, plus their first years had great potential. With Kuroo, Nekoma specialized in solid receives, blocks, and flexibility, which made their team a challenge to outsmart. Fukurodani seemed to rely on Bokuto’s powerful spikes as well as his unstable mood, which somehow made them harder to control. Those two as captains were certainly irritating.

It was the second night and everyone was set to leave. All the teams were chilling outside enjoying some popsicles that the coaches were kind enough to treat them with for their hard work. The sun was setting and the air was pleasant and Bokuto and Kuroo were actually being quiet and talking with their own team and setters rather than each other. They were smiling. Not their usual smile – the cunning grin that meant that they were up to no good – but genuine. They looked happy. Oikawa looked over at Iwaizumi and felt the same. This was a good start.

“What’s this, a genuine smile?” Iwaizumi observed. “What’re you thinking about?”

Oikawa hummed. “This doesn’t seem too bad. Training camp, I mean.”

“Out of all three years we’ve come here, this is one of the first times I’ve heard you say anything good about it.”

Oikawa sighed dreamily and lay back on the grassy hill. “They’ve hardly bothered me all weekend, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi leaned back onto his elbows. “Hopefully they’ll do the same for the week camp.”

For a while they sat in silence, munching at their popsicles. Everything felt fine; their sore muscles got a rest, their sweaty skin got a light breeze, their famished stomachs got a cool treat, and busy minds got a relaxing break. Everything was fine.

“Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi opened an eye. Hanamaki stood over them, Matsukawa slightly behind him.

“What is it?”

“I want to challenge you to another arm wrestling competition.”

Iwaizumi scoffed. “Why? I beat you every time.”

“I can do it this time,” he said, “I’m stronger now.”

“Why now though? Why not wait until we’re back home?”

“So everyone can see when you lose.”

“ _OH!”_ Oikawa howled next to him. Iwaizumi hit him in the side and stood up, the hill for once giving him an advantage in height. Other Seijoh members came over to see what was going on.

“Oh, _really_ ? You think you’ll surpass me in strength that easily?” He challenged. Hanamaki stared at him, unwavering. “Well then,” Iwaizumi continued, “I guess I’ll let everyone see what happens when I _win_.”

Matsukawa grinned and left to find a flat surface for them to balance their elbows on. He returned shortly with a large bucket, which they took to the top of the hill to begin their tournament. A few other players, curious of what was going on, followed them.

Iwaizumi and Hanamaki sat down on the grass on opposite sides of the bucket and got into position. They both looked outright terrifying when they’re determined to win, especially in arm wrestling matches (Hanamaki challenges him every few months in hopes of finally winning, which he never does). Oikawa swore he saw the fiery depths of hell inside their pupils.

“You sure you’re gonna win?” Iwaizumi asked with a sinister smile.

Hanamaki grinned. “Positive.”

Matsukawa stepped up. “Ready?” They nodded. “Set.” They gripped each other’s hands. “Go!”

Their arms remained in the same position, shaking from the amount of pure force coming from each side. By now, a small crowd circled around the pair, including players from every team. After what seemed like forever, Iwaizumi’s arm started to push Hanamaki’s down, and everyone started cheering, either yelling out their names or jersey numbers.

Hanamaki grunted and pushed back with all his might, which caused more yelling from the crowd surrounding them as he brought their hands back to center again. If they went on any longer their biceps were probably going to explode.

“You’re not gonna win this time, Iwaizumi,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You’re still so sure?” Iwaizumi responded, forcing his hand back down. Hanamaki yelled. His whole face was scrunched up honing the strength to fight back. As his hand neared the surface of the bucket, he yelled and pushed back up. Iwaizumi mimicked his yell and surge of strength, until they were both (unnecessarily) screaming at each other until Hanamaki’s hand was just a centimeter away from the bucket. Oikawa was about to give an extra push to Iwaizumi’s hand just so it’d be over.

Finally, with a final wave of energy and probably paragraphs worth of inspirational internal monologue, Iwaizumi slammed Hanamaki’s hand down and put an end to the madness. The crowd around them exploded.

Hanamaki slumped over the bucket in defeat, Matsukawa placing a hand on his back. Iwaizumi practically sprang away from him, yelling in victory, and almost knocked Oikawa over. Iwaizumi stretched his arm and grinned. He pointed at Hanamaki.

“Think again before you get so cocky!” The crowd howled again.

The Seijoh first years stood frozen in awe, pink to the cheeks. Oikawa laughed.

“You didn’t know? Well, this is their first quarrel of the year, after all. Iwaizumi is Seijoh’s Arm Wrestling Champion!” He declared proudly.

The first years practically dissolved in amazement. “So cool!”

Iwaizumi laughed loudly. “Anyone else wanna give it a try?”

Someone from Ubugawa volunteered confidently, and Matsukawa had to drag Hanamaki away from the bucket to make room. Iwaizumi beat him in less than twenty seconds. As well as the next opponent, and the next, and the next. The first years were probably going to pass out if it went on any longer.

Finally Bokuto and Kuroo showed up. It took way longer than expected, but Oikawa suspected that their setters had something to do with that.

They sauntered over and leaned on Oikawa’s shoulders, one imbecile on either side of him.

“What’s this?” Bokuto asked, dangerously close to Oikawa’s face. “Arm wrestling competition?”

“I wouldn’t have expected Iwaizumi….” Kuroo commented in Oikawa’s other ear. “I thought he was the only normal person here.”

“As if you two wouldn’t have started the same thing.” He retorted. “Iwa-chan’s Seijoh’s Arm Wrestling Champion. Nobody’s ever beaten him!” He motioned at Iwaizumi, who conveniently smashed Shinzen’s #1 arm down at his words. He looked ecstatic.

Bokuto hummed, then leaned forward to look at Kuroo from the other side of Oikawa.

“Kuroo! Are you gonna challenge him?”

“Nah. Iwaizumi’s stronger than me. I already know I wouldn’t be able to beat him.”

When Oikawa looked back at Bokuto to observe his reaction, instead of looking dispirited he wore an expression that meant he had a horrible idea brewing in that mostly-empty brain of his.

“Bokuto-san, please don’t challenge Iwa-chan to arm wrestle,” Oikawa pleaded. The mere idea of Bokuto – one of the top five spikers in Japan and certainly one of the most powerful players at camp – and Iwaizumi in an arm wrestling match sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. One of them was likely to get their entire arm ripped off and thrown into the ravenous crowd of teenagers surrounding them. Not to mention that there was an actual chance that Bokuto would win, as well. Iwaizumi was most likely getting worn out already and going on any longer would leave him sore for days. If anyone, it was _Iwaizumi_ that was going to get his arm ripped off, and probably merely out of exhaustion.

Unfortunately (Oikawa sighed), Bokuto was not about to back down from the challenge anytime soon. He released himself from Oikawa and made a dramatic gesture of puffing out his chest and running his fingers through his hair, then placing his fists at his hips as he approached Iwaizumi to declare his purpose.

“He calls that one his ‘Battle Stance’,” Kuroo snickered. “What a weirdo.” He smacked Oikawa hard on the back before trailing behind Bokuto.

As Bokuto and Iwaizumi were getting ready, Akaashi approached Oikawa and took the space where Kuroo once stood.

“I see I’ve arrived too late to stop this before it starts?” He asked.

“Sadly,” Oikawa responded. “They don’t exactly like listening to me, so there wasn’t much I could do.”

“They don’t like listening to anyone, really. Kuroo’s a good guy on his own, though a pain in the ass, but Bokuto just has poor control over his impulses.” Akaashi motioned at the current situation to prove his point.

Oikawa nodded. Anybody could tell that Bokuto didn’t have much thought going on before he did something stupid, though his control on the court was rather impressive.

“He seems to listen to you, though,” he noted. “How’d you manage to do that?”

Akaashi remained silent for a moment, gazing at the arm wrestling opponents as they finally finished stretching their arms and got positioned over the bucket between them. “At first, I thought he was intimidated by me,” he finally spoke, “but I quickly realized that it wasn’t because he was scared of me, rather, it was the opposite – it was admiration.”

It took a split second longer than usual for Oikawa to process this. “Oh,” he said dumbly. Why hadn’t that occurred to him? Usually it was the kouhai that was seeking praise from the senpai, but Bokuto _did_ have the mindset of a young child, so it probably wasn’t much different. Before Oikawa could say anything else on the matter, Akaashi pointed out that the match was starting and they took a few steps closer to the action.

Iwaizumi and Bokuto clasped hands over the bucket and stared at each other in opposition. The atmosphere was worse than it was with Hanamaki. Iwaizumi looked like he was ready to drag Bokuto down to hell with his right hand alone, while Bokuto’s morale-boosting demeanor got everyone even more pumped up than they already were. The vibes they gave out were complete opposites and rather unsettling to have in close proximity.

Matsukawa stepped forth as the starter once again and began the countdown. “Ready? Set. Go!”

The crowd around them immediately started cheering and screaming while the two competitors battled for victory. Similar to the first match, when Matsukawa called _go_ neither of them moved very much, their arms shaking from the sheer determination coming from both sides.

“You know I’m one of the top four spikers in Japan, right?” Bokuto said, loud enough for the surrounding people to hear. “I’m stronger than you.”

“With the amount of times you’ve already told me that I don’t think I could even try to forget.” Iwaizumi seethed. He held his other hand on his upper arm for support as he managed to push Bokuto’s hand down a smidge. “Being a better spiker doesn’t mean you’re a better arm wrestler though.”

“Better arm, better wrestler!” Bokuto declared.

“What does that even mean?” Iwaizumi managed to say.

For another agonizing minute, neither of them showed any signs in getting in the lead, stuck at the midpoint, the extreme amounts of strength from either side cancelling out.

“At this rate, I don’t think either of them will be able to win.” Akaashi commented. “Though I can’t help but be curious at who would.”

Oikawa stared at the two suffering spikers. “It’s hard to say. Iwa-chan’s been arm wrestling forever, but he’s been doing it continuously for a while now, so Bokuto-san has an advantage over him because of that.”

Akaashi nodded in agreement. “That’s true. I like Iwaizumi-san, but I think I’m rooting for Bokuto-san on this one, but mostly because he’d probably be dejected about it for days if he lost.” Akaashi looked at him gravely. “Do you know how much money I spend on ice cream trying to cheer him up?”

Oikawa laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Iwa–”

Oikawa was interrupted as the shouting crowd around them started cheering in unison, their incoherent yells finally merging together into chants of “I-WAI-ZU-MI!” or “BO-KU-TO!” and the occasional “NUM-BER FOUR!” (followed by a “they’re both number four, dumbass!”). Looking back at the two, it was revealed that Bokuto was winning just by a _little_ bit, Iwaizumi obviously worn out.

As Bokuto continued to slowly push Iwaizumi’s hand down, the Fukurodani teammates went insane. Bokuto seemed to be fueled by this encouragement and his pride fully took over. Still, he looked incredibly frustrated with Iwaizumi’s strength.

Iwaizumi let his hand drop a little more before retaliating and pushing back up, eventually bringing them back to the midpoint again. Bokuto yelled in annoyance (and possibly in pain as well, it was hard to tell).

“This is going to last forever,” Oikawa whined.

“I have a feeling something very bad is going to happen if this doesn’t end soon.” Akaashi commented.

“Are you going to stop them?”

“Not sure if that’s possible at this point.”

They turned their attention back to the exhilarated crowd, which had apparently reached its peak, as the cheering slowed and decreased in volume since the two competitors had yet to make any more progress. A clearing was hastily formed as a group of coaches marched their way to the scene. Oh.

“What on earth is going on here?”

Everyone stopped. They all slowly looked at the coaches, frozen in place with their mouths agape. All five coaches stood side by side with their arms crossed, glaring down at the dueling spikers (though Coach Nekomata was trying to stifle his laughter). The last beams of sunlight emitting from the setting sun cast from behind them, making the ultimate deciders of their life-threatening punishments look even more menacing than usual.

Shinzen’s coach ordered Bokuto and Iwaizumi to separate immediately, and they obeyed. He turned his attention to the onlookers and threatened them a lifetime worth of diving receives if they didn’t go clean up _now_.

“I totally won,” Bokuto muttered to Iwaizumi.

“Fuck you,” he responded.

“Hush, you two,” the coach barked, “your teams have already caused enough trouble at my school. I’ll be speaking to your coaches about this later.” Their coaches nodded in agreement.

The spikers watched as the other players made their way down the hill, wishing more than anything that they were with them. Arm wrestling wasn’t _that_ bad of a thing to do, but with their teams’ combined history of causing a scene, summoning a large group of teenagers to a competition that intense would most likely end in disaster and possibly property damage as well. It was likely this was the final straw.

For the time being, Iwaizumi and Bokuto were sent to pick up the accumulations of trash left from the popsicles on the hill while the coaches sat at the top in conversation. After the sun had completely set, the coaches finally escorted them back to the main building to reunite with their teams for the bus rides home.

“Did they torture you?” Hanamaki asked eagerly.

“Why do you sound so excited about it?” Iwaizumi responded.

“Or did they make you hug it out?” Matsukawa teased, leaning forward onto the bus seat in front of him.

“Fuck off,” Iwaizumi snarled, “they just made us pick up your garbage.”

“Hm, boring.”

“Boring.” Hanamaki agreed.

“You two really complement each other with that echoing thing,” Oikawa commented. “You’re almost as bad as them.”

“Them?”

“You know who! We’re not speaking their names here.” Oikawa declared dramatically.

“What’re you, like, twelve?” Iwaizumi asked. Oikawa looked rightfully offended.

“Yeah, on a scale from one to ten.”

“How many times are you going to pull that joke, Oikawa? Nobody thinks it’s funny but you.” Hanamaki noted.

“That applies to majority of the things he says,” said Iwaizumi

“Hey!”

“Alright, listen up! I have something to announce before we get on the road,” Coach Mizoguchi called from the front of the bus, interrupting their banter. “Coach Irihata and I talked with the other coaches and we’ve decided to not continue coming to training camp this year. And we’re probably not going to be invited back in the future.” He nodded his head acutely at their sounds of disagreement. “For this, you can thank your _incredibly mature and talented_ upperclassmen.” He gave the third years a pointed look as they sank down in their seats.

Coach Mizoguchi continued on with his lecture about “wasting your potential” and “acting your age,” and then moved onto their plans and goals for the year (which sounded more rigorous than ever). It wasn’t until twenty minutes later that they finally started on their long way back home.

“By the way,” Yahaba called from the other end of the bus, twisted around in his seat with Watari, “you guys owe us ramen for the rest of the year for getting us kicked out of this camp.”

“Aw, what?” Matsukawa and Hanamaki groaned in unison as Oikawa wailed.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “It’s only fair, it _is_ our fault, after all.”

“You’re the one who started the arm wrestling match!” Oikawa accused.

“Actually, that was Hanamaki.”

“You’re the one that became friends with them in the first place, Oikawa.” Hanamaki retorted.

“I didn’t do anything, they wouldn’t leave me alone!” He huffed.

“So it’s Bokuto and Kuroo’s fault?” Iwaizumi concluded.

“Bokuto and Kuroo’s fault.” Matsukawa agreed.

“Bokuto and Kuroo’s fault.” Hanamaki echoed.

Oikawa nodded solemnly. “Bokuto and Kuroo’s fault.”

As the night dragged on and everyone eventually drifted to sleep, Oikawa sat awake staring out at the darkness of the night racing by, surroundings rhythmically illuminated by the occasional streetlight. The light pollution was low on the road back to Miyagi, and Oikawa could faintly see the stars through the clouded window of the bus. Thoughts lazily drifted through his mind one after the other, one being how they would never return to training camp. For the sake of others, he felt kind of bad that he ruined such a great opportunity for his underclassmen to reach their full potential and become stronger players. Still, he was almost glad that he wouldn’t have to spend another year with the hooligans from the third gym, no matter how helpful they attempted to be. Admittedly, Bokuto and Kuroo were formidable and powerful opponents, but their teaching methods were closer to torture than actual teaching. Not to mention that loss punishments were hell, especially when you tend to lose a lot. Oikawa felt bad for whoever may be invited to their camp in the future, he decided. His heart certainly went out to anyone that should encounter the duo before the year ends unless they could beat Ushiwaka themselves.

 

• • •

 

 _(30 mins ago)_ **_bokoutaro45_ ** _tagged you in a photo._

 

[Photo of Bokuto and Kuroo grinning with their arms wrapped around Karasuno’s #11 by the shoulders, seemingly against his will, with Karasuno’s #10 and an absurdly tall Nekoma member jumping in the background and making ridiculous faces.]

  
**_bokoutaro45_** _:_ **_@oikawaii_ ** _wish u were here shittykawa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_ ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

**Author's Note:**

> the hearts used to be an onslaught of emojis but the code couldnt handle it ):
> 
> thanks so much for reading! please let me know what you think by leaving a comment, i really appreciate it ^-^
> 
> please listen to the [audio](http://aro-alien.tumblr.com/post/136955889945/elasticitymudflap-sleepysheepie-nyehs) that i reference in that one scene
> 
> check out my [tumblr!](http://aro-alien.tumblr.com/)


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